


She's God and I Found Her

by unkindravens



Series: The Ballad of Stevie Budd [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Aftercare, Body Worship, Dom/sub, Embarrassment, F/F, Femdom, Forced Orgasm, Human Furniture, Obedience, PWP, Subspace, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 13:58:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20547293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkindravens/pseuds/unkindravens
Summary: Stevie serves a princess. And it’s Twyla.





	She's God and I Found Her

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the Rosebudd for the idea and the cheerleading. And thanks to samwhambam for the title. (From King Princess's "Pussy is God.")
> 
> Can be read alone, but part of a series exploring Stevie’s background.
> 
> I made this   
[ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/user/a44exvwmpv9nxha8golbtkmor/playlist/3b0ENbO7SzIQJMbnGu8zeF?si=gDandNFbQWKVLAPkB1C27Q)  
to write to and you should totally listen to it!

Twyla opened the door, smiling in that way only Twyla can, like whether you’re a stranger or a family member, she was genuinely interested in knowing you. In caring about you. In taking care of you.

“Stevie!” she said brightly. “Come in!”

I shuffled past her, head down, and she closed the door.

“Posture!” she chirped.

I straightened my spine.

“What are we feeling tonight?”

“Um,” I want to look away, but I force myself not to, “if I, um, start crying, just push me through it.”

Twyla nodded. “We’ll get through it. Come here.” She pulled me in for a hug. She smelled like fried food and gardenias. 

I rested my head on her shoulder, not knowing what tonight will bring. 

“Magenta,” she whispered, our safeword, “or two taps.”

I repeated the words. She tightened her arms around me before letting go. 

Twyla clapped her hands. “Get undressed! Time to clean!”

“Yes, my Princess.”

I saved this motel room, so it was a long day of making excuses to Mr. Rose and Roland as to why it didn’t need cleaning. I know each time I did, I blushed and squirmed in my chair, but I don’t think they noticed. I’ve been wet all day, wearing this ridiculous lingerie.

I removed my clothes, folded them, and placed them in a dresser drawer. Traded my shoes for the pair waiting for me. I walked to the cleaning cart I managed to roll in without suspicion and grabbed paper towels and spray.

I started with the full-length mirror outside of the bathroom and I looked at myself as I sprayed. I’m wearing pink, impossibly ruffled panties and a matching bra. But, honestly, the bra was doing me a lot of favors. Pink garter belt. White stockings. My shoes, white patent leather platform stilettos that I still can’t really walk in. I look like Little Bo Peep. But, for like, really slutty sheep.

Twyla’s back was to me, so I stared. She pulled off her floral print blouse, her grey slacks. The Cafe clothes gave way to lingerie matching mine, except all black, sans ruffles. Even black heels. It was all hard lines and edges around her thin, soft body. Around that sweet face.

Twyla caught me looking. “Why are you staring?”

“Oh,” I began, “it’s just - you’re so beautiful. I can’t help it.”

Twyla smiled, walked towards me, and grabbed my chin.

“Get back to work.”

“Yes, my Princess. I’m sorry.”

I scoured the bathroom, wiped down all the furniture, and vacuumed the carpet. Every so often, Twyla would yell, “Spotless!” Everything was as close to sparkling as it gets at the Rosebud. I saved changing the sheets for last. Maybe it would pique Twyla’s interest.

There was a knock on the door.

“I ordered pizza,” Twyla said absently. She held out a wad of cash. “Pay them.”

“Like this?”

Twyla dragged her eyes up my body to my eyes. “Yes, like that. I don’t like repeating myself.”

“I’m sorry, my Princess,” I mumbled as I took the money and opened the door just wide enough to see the delivery guy’s face.

I shoved the cash at him, but realized I had to open the door wide enough for the pizza. I avoided the guy’s face, but I could tell he was checking me out. Who wouldn’t? Who gets pizza in their underwear?

Mercifully, he stayed silent and I closed the door and put the pizza on the table. “Would you like a slice, my Princess?”

“Yes.”

I found a plate and pulled out a slice of cheese pizza.

I did a kind of courtesy as I handed Twyla her plate. She took a bite.

“It’s been a long day, I need to put my feet up,” she said, mouth full. “Come be my footstool.” She gestured in front of her with the pizza.

I hurried to the floor and crawled into place on my hands and knees.

“Child’s pose,” she said, “you’ll be there a while and no one likes a shaky table.”

I tucked in my legs and bent over, head nearly touching the floor. I knew this pose from years of being an on-again-off-again yoga student of Twyla’s.

She plopped her feet on my back and watched an episode of _Golden Girls_. I laughed once at a joke and she tapped my ass.

I was Twyla’s. She needed me to rest her feet. She had to stand all day, but I help her relax. My breath was strong and even, just like she taught me. I couldn’t hear the TV anymore and my brain folded into itself.

My Princess wanted me. She wanted me to do this for her. Out of all the people in the world, she chose me. I relaxed further into the pose. I breathed in the motel carpet that I had just cleaned. For her. I wanted everything perfect for my Princess.

Twyla dragged her feet from my back. I had no idea how long I had been there, and didn’t really care. I would stay all night if she needed.

“That pizza was greasy.” She out her hand. I scurried to my knees and opened my mouth. She shoved her fingers into my mouth; I moaned around them. Fuck, they felt so good.

She removed them and I whined. “You still have to make the bed, get to it.”

“Yes, my Princess.” I crawled to the cleaning cart and grabbed fresh sheets, then hobble-crawled to the bed. She hadn’t told me to crawl, but I wanted her to notice. I wanted her to feel happy that I did this for her. Not, like, I’m doing her favors. I wanted her to know I’m here to _ serve _ her.

I had to stand to rip the old sheets from the bed. Suddenly, Twyla was standing behind me.

“If you make that bed - perfect corners, no wrinkles - what would you like as your reward?” She combed her hands through my hair.

“To worship you, my Princess.” 

She yanked my hair, pulling my head back. “Then get this right,” she hissed in my ear. She let go of my hair, tossing my head forward. I grab the blanket and top sheet in a bundle.

“You’ve been cleaning this motel your entire life, haven’t you?” Twyla asked.

“Yes, I have.”

She circled the bed. “You never left Schitt’s Creek. Never left this motel.”

I shook my head.

“What?” she snapped.

“No, I haven’t. Haven’t left.”

“And yet, everyone you know has gone.” She paced back and forth. “Now that I think about it, all your friends - your _ family _ \- have left this town.”

I shoved the dirty sheets into the cleaning cart’s bin. “They have, my Princess.”

“Your cousins have all left,” she mused. “Well, the ones who aren’t in prison like your uncles.”

I nodded, changing the pillowcases.

“Everyone wants to leave you here, don’t they?”

I nod again.

“Why is that? Hmm… let’s see what you have to offer.” She continued pacing. “You’re very stand-offish. Kinda mean, really. Clearly no ambition… who stays in the same job they’ve had since they were twelve? Not very feminine either. Oh! Didn’t you have that one boyfriend? This was years ago. You were living together or something?”

“Kinda,” I mumbled.

“He left you too. Why was that?”

_ Fuck_. Fuck fuck. I felt like I was sunburnt and she was poking me. I sniffled and tried not to cry, tried to be strong for her.

“He found a new girl in Elmdale. They moved away.”

“Why did he prefer her?” Twyla asked.

I sighed. The tears were dangerously close to my lashes. “He said she wasn’t ‘complicated.’ Said he didn’t know what to do with me.”

“Did you love him?”

I hiccup and tears fell. I nodded. “I did. I thought he loved me. Maybe he did? For a while? I honestly have no idea how to tell if someone’s in love with me. Or even in-like with me.”

“And your parents…”

I flattened the blanket on the now made bed. Twyla lifted at the corners, checking my work, and seemed pleased.

So, here we go then.

“Dad’s dead. So I don’t think that counts.”

“But he died when you were in college, right? Was he around a lot before then?”

“Not really. I mean, he _ was _ in prison a lot.”

“And when he was out?” she asked.

“He and my mom didn’t get along, so he just didn’t come around much. You know, keep the peace or whatever.”

“That was worth more than spending time with his child?”

I looked up, blinking my eyes. Shit, this was turning into real crying. I looked back down to the bed.

“I guess so. He had a lot of… lady friends in different places.”

Twyla patted the bed. I crawled on and pulled my knees into my chest.

“Friends much more exciting than his angry little daughter.”

I nodded, burying my face in my knees.

Twyla lifted my head so my eyes met hers. “And your mother?”

I choked on a sob.

“She’s still alive,” Twyla said.

I nodded.

“And when you were growing up, how often was she around?”

“A lot,” I muttered, feeling defensive.

“Was she? I remember you staying with your Aunt Maureen a lot.” Her thumb stroked my cheek. “Nana Budd a couple of times. There was that Christmas break you spent at my house. Didn’t Ronnie even take you in? I remember it being so hard to keep track of you when we were kids.”

“Yes.” My shoulders shook and it was hard to keep looking at Twyla. She wiped some tears away.

“No one kept you forever. They just… abandoned you. Like your mother did. Like she did over and over again.”

“I know!” I yelled. “No one fucking wanted me. They just left and gave me away.”

Twyla knelt and tucked some hair behind my ear. “And when you grew up, they left too. That gang of cousins. Your friends from high school. Your aunts. Your uncles. Your mother.”

She took her hand away and I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Do you even know where your mother is?”

I whimpered against my knees.

“Do you?”

“No.” I looked at Twyla, but she was blurry. “No! She’s just gone! I haven’t talked to her in over a year. I don’t even know if she’s still in the goddamn country! No Christmas cards, no birthday cards, that bitch just left me here!”

“I know,” Twyla said calmly. “And everyone here will one day leave you too, won’t they? Do you think the Roses are going to stick around?” She laughed. “Mr. and Mrs. Rose will be on the first plane out when they sell the town.” She looked around her. “Or this motel. And, David… He tried to leave you once already, right? Plus he has Patrick now. He doesn’t need you anymore. No one does.”

I looked up at her, shaking in that horrible way squealing toddlers do in the middle of the toy store. Everyone leaves. David won’t stay, and Patrick’s only my friend because of David. But even if they don’t move, how long until they’re completely wrapped up in each other? Until they’re one of those couples who get married and never talk to their friends again? David doesn’t need me. Even Alexis is going to the Galápagos.

I’ll be all alone. But I’ve been alone before. I’ve been alone pretty much my whole life. I don’t need them.

Twyla sat behind me on the bed and scooped me in her arms. She kissed my temple.

“You did so good,” she cooed. “I’m proud of you, that was a lot. And now you know your place.”

She pulled on my torso until I turned to face her. She smiled and grabbed tissues from the nightstand. She stroked my hair as I blew my nose.

“You’ve earned your reward.” She said, moving to lie back on the bed, beside me.

“Th-thank you.”

“Undress me.”

“Would you like a massage, my Princess?”

She hummed. “Yes, it’s been a very trying day. It’s exhausting, dealing with you.”

I stood and removed her shoes, gently placing them on the floor. I ran my hand my hand up her stockings, and unclasped them from her garter belt.

I rolled down the right leg, kissing a line on the outside of her leg as I went. I did the same for the left.

I knelt and massaged her feet. They had to ache by the end of the day. Schitt’s Creek had no idea who was serving them at the Cafe. They didn’t see she’s a Princess. She’s royalty who danes to work alongside the filth of this town.

Her eyes close as I knead her feet. I put my lips on the arch of her left foot, my tongue out as I kissed her. I ran my tongue along and slid her big toe in my mouth before pulling away. Gave the same offering to the right.

I crawled onto the bed and knelt beside her. I rubbed her calves. They were so strong. I moved up to her thighs. My hands moved along her, from the top of her legs to her feet. She felt like how I think a dancer would. Sleek and strong and supple. Her skin looked like cream.

I tucked my fingers in the waistband of her panties. “May I, my Princess?”

She smiled and nodded.

I pulled them off with the garter belt. I kneaded her inner thighs, near her vagina. My fingers brushed against her soft hair. It was beautiful, just a bit browner than the hair on her head. I angled myself so I had one thigh between hers. I moved over her, letting my hair brush along her torso.

“And your bra, my princess?”

Twyla nodded, arching so I could open the clasp.

Her breasts were the palest part of her, having never seen the sun. They were larger than mine and perfect.

I took her left arm in my hands, working the muscles from her shoulders to her hands. I rubbed my thumbs in her palm. I took her forefinger into my mouth and rubbed it with my tongue. I sucked as I let go. I took her middle finger into my mouth and rubbed it with my tongue. I sucked her ring finger. Her pinky. Her thumb.

I gently rested her arm on the bed, picked up the other, and trailed my hands down her arms and took those fingers into my mouth, one by one. They still tasted like pizza.

I dropped that hand and kissed her neck. I knew better than to kiss her mouth. Still, she tilted her neck as I licked along her throat.

I spread the heels of my hands across her chest, smoothing the muscles. My thumbs rubbed beneath her pronounced collar bones, then I stretched her chest again. I held her breasts, letting their weight rest in my hands. I rubbed softly, sliding my thumbs beneath them. I carefully swung a leg over her and waited for a nod before I fully straddled her hips.

I rolled her nipples between my fingers; I already made them so hard. I bowed and took one in my mouth. I sucked, licked, bit. Twyla giggled. I moved to the other, nuzzling it with my nose before pulling that one in my mouth and flicking it with my tongue. Twyla placed a hand in my hair as I sucked more, rubbing the nipple with my tongue. I went back and forth, caring for my Princess.

I kissed down her stomach and settled between her legs. She planted her feet on the bed and let her knees fall away. There she was. A cathedral, ready for me to enter.

I licked her in one broad stroke. Jesus, she was so wet. For _ me_. I opened her and pushed my tongue inside, she was so strong inside; it felt like she could trap my tongue. I pulled it out and licked her again, sucking and rolling her flesh in my mouth. Her eyes were closed and mouth parted. She let me make her this way.

I was going to take care of her.

I got her clit beneath my tongue and she jerked. I ran my tongue up, down, and around. Just how she liked it. I lapped at her, pushing my mouth against her as hard as I could. I slid two fingers inside her. God, she felt so good. I started to fuck her - no, make _ love _ \- with my fingers. I kept my tongue on her clit and felt her start to shake.

She moaned as she came against me. I let her squeeze my head with her thighs and ride her orgasm on my face. I removed my fingers and frantically scooped her cream with my tongue. I don’t even where to begin to describe her taste. She’s so sweet, she probably felt like nectar to a hummingbird. I wanted it all.

Twyla smiled and motioned me up to her. Both of her hands were in my hair now, playing. She wiped some of her wetness from my face and slid that finger into her mouth.

She rolled us so she was on top. “Are you ready to fly, songbird?”

She started calling me songbird after _ Cabaret _ rehearsals began.

“Yes, my Princess,” I whispered. I twisted a strand of her hair around my finger. “Thank you, my Princess.”

Twyla reached over me to the nightstand. She pulled out a sleep mask. She raised her eyebrows and I nodded. It was pink, of course, and she carefully slid it over my head.

I felt her arms along my torso. “Lift up for me,” she said, then removed my bra. She moved down, grazing my body with hers. She removed my panties and garter belt, unsnapping it from the stockings. She dragged them down my legs, then worked back up, kissing the inside of my thighs.

Twyla took one stocking and slowly rolled it down my leg, same with the other. She, blissfully, took my heels off, then pulled everything over my feet. Her fingers feathered up my body, then disappeared. A familiar feeling circled my wrists - she was tying me with our scarves.

I heard something bump the drawer. She took one foot in her hand and I knew what it was. She clamped one side of the spreader bar to my ankle, then on the other. I was powerless, spread out before her. A handmaid and her Princess.

“Feeling okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, my Princess.”

She shifted on the bed next to me and swept her fingers across my chest. My breath quickened and she put her mouth on one of my nipples. She took the other between her fingers. I wanted to arch against her, but couldn’t. I bit my lip and whined instead.

Her mouth was warm on my nipples, moving between both. She firmly stroked them with her tongue, then bit down, making me buck in my restraints. Then, she was gone.

Fingers stroked down my stomach and hips, rubbing all the way down to my feet, and back up again. Giving me a brief massage I didn’t deserve. I felt her face between my thighs and heard her inhale. She swung up to sit on my waist. She grabbed one nipple and I felt the adjustable clamp. She did the same with the other nipple, closing them tight around me. She kissed back down my stomach and I felt her between my legs again.

She dragged a finger between my lips. “What do you want, songbird?”

“Please,” I panted, “please put your mouth on me. Please eat me. I’m yours, I’m all yours.”

I felt Twyla’s tongue sweep up against me. She sucked each part of me between her lips. I felt her lick everywhere with that soft, perfect tongue. Everywhere except-

She pressed her tongue against my clit and I shivered. This was not going to take long.

Her tongue rubbed against my clit, my labia, inside me. She was everywhere at once. She was magic. She then focused on my clit, drawing rough circles.

I felt my body tense. My abdomen was so tight, I couldn’t imagine coming. It didn’t seem possible. I wanted to touch her hair, to squeeze my thighs, to move at all, but I was trapped. Twyla kept suckling my clit and _ groaning_. My body froze, suspended in space for just a moment.

Then I flooded open.

The tension rushed out of my body with each pulse of my body. All my feelings were swept away, pulled out by Twyla. She swallowed all of me until I didn’t feel anything except her mouth.

Twyla moved away from me, cold air rushing against the loss. I felt one nipple clamp be removed, then the other, blood rushing back in. I felt Twyla get off of the bed. I still _ ached _ for her.

Something touched my opening, it had to be one of our dildos. It filled me and stayed. I heard a buzzing sound.

Shockwaves ripped through me when the vibration touched my clit. I tried to press harder, forgetting again that I couldn’t move. The dildo moved out and back in. It was fucking me hard and the vibrator was drawing circles around my clit.

I came again, yelling I think. The assault didn’t stop. I was still getting fucked.

“I cant…” I panted. “Please, I can’t.”

“Yes you can, my songbird,” Twyla purred. “Do it for me.”

My hands gripped the scarves around my wrists as I came again. The vibrator stayed. The dildo stayed. I couldn’t handle it anymore. Did it feel good? Did it hurt?

Then I went away. It was like my body shook me out of myself and set me free. I was nowhere. It was just me and Twyla. I only existed because she did. I ran my hands through her thick hair, her head in my lap. Her hands were all over my body. I tightened my fists, holding onto her so I wouldn’t float away. I cried, and everything was bright. The tears fell and flew away.

We collapsed into each other. Twyla let me in and we soared, just like she said we would. There was sensation between our thighs. Something far away, but powerful. We spread our arms into the wind, and some words were being murmured from below.

“Come back… come back to me, my songbird.” Twyla’s voice was next to my ear. I started to fall.

“Where am I?”

“You’re with me. You're here with me.”

Right, we were in the motel. Twyla stroked her palm against me, the dildo and vibrator having been removed. I realized I could move my arms. And I could see.

She took her hand away from my sex and stroked my hair. My feet were free and I bent my knees to my chest. Twyla tucked her arms around me and hummed a song I didn’t recognize. She touched my face. Shit, I was crying. _ Wailing_.

Twyla held my head to her chest as I cried. We were naked and messy, but she still held me. She hummed and petted my hair. I gripped her in case she wanted to leave. I didn’t want her to go, I needed her here. I had to keep her here.

“Shhh… It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eventually, I settled down. Twyla sat up and pulled me with her. 

“Can you walk?” she asked. I nodded.

She took my face in both her hands and kissed my mouth.

Twyla stood and held out her hand. I grabbed on and followed her to the bathroom where she plopped me on the toilet. “Pee.”

She leaned on the doorframe and watched me. She shooed me out of the way when I finished and used the toilet too. I sagged against the doorframe.

She flushed and walked me to the sink. She turned on the tap and placed both of our hands beneath it, lathering them with soap. We dried our hands on a towel, but then she took a washcloth ran it under the warm water. 

Taking my chin in her fingers, Twyla wiped the cloth across my face, caressing my nose, cheeks, chin. I looked up at her. She caught my eye and smiled. She smiled with her entire face; her bright eyes crinkled with her smile, hiding the browns and greens of her pupils. Her soft lips gave way to her white, perfect teeth. She had dimples beneath her high cheekbones, sprinkled with freckles. She was ethereal.

“Good job, songbird.” She took my hand again and led me to sit on the bed. She retrieved pajamas from the dresser. Flannel bottoms and soft tees for both of us. She helped me into mine and then put on hers. She folded down the blanket and we slipped beneath it, on our backs. Twyla took my hand and leaned our heads together.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” was all I managed.

“You know,” she said, “there are a lot of people here who care about you.” I shrugged against her.

“I’m serious,” she squeezed my hand. “Mr. Rose comes into the Cafe all the time and talks about how David’s store is doing, what Alexis is working on, and how the motel is running. He calls you his ‘three entrepreneurs.’”

I snuggled closer. “Really?”

Twyla nodded. “He does. And you know, if she could, Mrs. Rose would drag you to Broadway with that voice.”

“Tell me more,” I whispered, wanting a bedtime story.

“Well, you know David will _ never _ leave you. Ever. One, no one else will have him.” I smiled. “Two, you guys were made for each other. I see it all the time when he looks at you. He looks at you the way he looks at Alexis. With pride. With love. Sometimes like he wants to fight you. And Patrick knows you’re a package deal. David could probably move you in with them and Patrick wouldn’t say a thing. And Patrick loves you too. Like, so much.”

I turned my head and hid my face in her hair. It still smelled like gardenias.

“As for your family… well, they’re just bad. Trust me, you know _ my _ family. They’re idiots. You’re so much better than they are.”

“So are you,” I said softly.

“You’ll be fine, Stevie. I know you’ll find what you need and you’ll take it. You deserve it.”

I yawned. “Thank you, Twyla.”

She kissed my forehead. “Good night, my sweet songbird.”


End file.
